


An olive tree

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28794447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Jaskier asks Borch for a favour, to help him rest and forget his heartbreak. Borch grants it but makes sure that Geralt can still make amends.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 261





	An olive tree

Borch was still sitting on the same fallen tree when Jaskier returned. 

The dragon turned around and looked the bard up and down. "Your witcher has left," Borch said softly. 

"He's not my witcher." Jaskier tried to get his breath under control. "And I don't need him…" Jaskier winced. 

Borch only smiled. "A hopeless liar, aren't you?"

"Well, yes. I've been told so. Anyway. You're a dragon, you… know things… I need help."

Borch kept looking at Jaskier. "And how can I help you? What are you, exactly? I tried to figure you out… and failed. Was going to have a conversation with you in a more pleasant setting but your witcher and the sorceress…"

"Went all dramatic, I know." Jaskier chuckled and shook his head.

"You're not much better yourself… Although I haven't witnessed it as much as I heard about it."

This time both creatures laughed. Borch patted the wood next to himself and Jaskier sat down. 

"How can I help you?" Borch repeated.

"I want to… rest and… forget." 

"I take it you've done so plenty of times."

"No. I hid myself. Have never been this tired or this heartbroken. Didn't always have a heart, to begin with."

"Why don't you tell me more?" Borch enquired. 

"Well… I don't remember anything before the conjunction of the spheres. Nothing. I don't know what I used to be, I don't know what I am now. Just… last time I hid myself it was the body of a stillborn child. I spent much time as a tree in a forest near the estate of Lettenhove. Then I was turned into a table, I'm afraid. Or was it a chair? I can't recall. 

"The mother was grieving, so was her husband. The baby lay there, empty. I took its form. That's how I became the viscount of Lettenhove and in time, Jaskier the bard."

"So… why don't you do the same now?"

"I'm not sure how much I can do these days. Each hiding, each asylum came with a price. I strengthened whatever it was that… hosted me and I got my safety in return. I hadn't been a human before… this. This me. And I never forgot."

Borch hummed. "If you don't know what you are, I can't help you. Far it be from me to wipe away your memories."

"I spent so much time scared and hiding. When I saw Geralt, though, I wasn't afraid. I was… smitten. Curious. A thousand and a half years of hiding and learning and being afraid - and there he was. If I believed in Destiny…"

They laughed again, both bitter. 

"How about a deal, Jaskier?"

"No generous acts of charity, I see." But Jaskier was looking at the dragon intently. 

"You're a kind creature, Jaskier, kind and full of life. The egg over there could use some of your strength. Now, there's an old olive tree not far from here. You'll know it. I can lock you there. It won't be an arrangement between you and the tree, it would be my force and my magic. All you need to do is go there and enter the tree. You'll stay there. In time, you will become that tree, fully."

"And if I change my mind?"

"Well, you better think it through. It's a good life, being a tree. Especially here where no human will set their foot any time soon. You'll enjoy the sun and the rain, the wind in your leaves… and don't worry, it will take hundreds of years before you become that tree. Maybe your witcher will come looking for you…"

"And what? Give me a true love's kiss? Cut me down? Actually, it doesn't matter. I'm tired. Come, I'll help your hatchling. And then I'll be on my merry way."

Jaskier stood up. Paused. "Take my lute, Borch. Keep it safe. You'll know when there's someone worthy."

The dragon nodded. 

The tree was old and twisted beautifully. Resilient and graceful. Jaskier loved it and entered it gladly.

***

"What is this?" Yennefer, furious and more than a bit shaken, stepped out of the portal and into the training yard of Kaer Morhen, holding Jaskier's lute.

"Are you talking to me?" Vesemir deadpanned.

"Seeing as there's no one else here, turns out I am," Yennefer snapped back. "Where's Geralt? Where's that useless son of a…"

"His mother was a powerful sorceress in her own right. And seeing as it's October and Geralt is a good… boy with a heart of gold and emotional development of a training dummy," Vesemir kicked a dummy for emphasis, "he's still on the Path."

"Well…" Yennefer coughed. "Sorry, I suppose? Ew, tastes like vinegar. I'm not at my best…"

"Sodden," Vesemir nodded wisely. "I heard. Want to sit down? Have some wine?"

"Fuck, yes."

They settled in the keep's kitchen. Yennefer put the lute on the table. 

"I was… drained. And briefly captured. Ugly sight. Cheers!"

"Indeed." 

"And then there was this fucking lute. Jaskier's lute. That idiot! I'm not getting involved in another mess of Geralt's! I wanted to bring him the lute, break it on his head and be off. And he's not even here!"

Vesemir examined the instrument. "It's beautiful. Elven work…"

"Really? I thought he was pulling my leg…" Yennefer looked a bit guilty.

"Jaskier? Yes, he's a…" Vesemir smiled. "He's a precious creature. I always wondered why Geralt never brought him here for a visit."

"Him? Not me?"

"Why would he bring you? You never wanted to be a part of his life for more than a night."

Yennefer hummed. "He needs to find and save that… Jaskier! Find him, save him, the usual. Geralt bound himself to me. Djinn. Whatever we had… it wasn't real. Explains why I never enjoyed his conversation…"

"He's not a great conversationalist, admittedly."

"That's putting it mildly. I'm leaving the lute here."

"Sure. I'll keep it safe. I won't break it over Geralt's head, but I might hit him with something heavier for toying with djinns. And sorceresses."

Yennefer smiled like a sated tiger. Vesemir bowed to her courteously.

***

"When are we going to tell him?" Lambert sneered and sniffled, watching Geralt and Ciri leave the dinner table and head for their rooms. 

"When he stops moping?" Eskel suggested carefully. 

"He's not moping!" Vesemir said, protective and fierce. 

"Oh, my dear sweet bard, his eyes are like the sky, his skin is like the sun…" Lambert got elbowed by Eskel for his efforts. 

"He's been traveling with a master bard for twenty years! He can do better!"

Vesemir suddenly found himself very interested in how Eskel perceived Geralt's… ehm… moping. 

Eskel cleared his throat. Lambert sneered again. Vesemir had a feeling Lambert didn't know what was coming for him.

"Bard," Eskel began, doing a very good impersonation of Geralt, "he's so silly! Loud. Beautiful… Can't stand him! Always so pretty! Impossible to concentrate on how gloomy I am."

Lambert fell off the bench, ignored by both his mentor and brother. 

"He's sunshine, he's first daffodils, he's laughter and joy and fresh sheets and good night's sleep," Geralt said quietly from behind them, sending Eskel off the bench as well.

"Cirilla?" Vesemir made an attempt to pretend to steer the conversation away.

"She's asleep. What about Jaskier?"

"Yes, what about Jaskier?" Eskel returned to his seat. Lambert stayed on the floor. 

"I sent him away. I… I told him…" Geralt proceeded to tell his family what he had told Jaskier on that thrice damned mountain.

"I'm too sorry for you to hit you but I do want it," Vesemir said. "How could you?"

"He's a mortal!" Geralt snarled. "He'll die and then… and I don't deserve him and his stupid loyalty!"

"People love each other just the same, mortal or not," Vesemir said. "People love each other when there's no hope and no happy ending…"

"I'm not _people_!" Geralt snarled again.

"No, but just like everyone, you're flawed and doubting. It makes you the most humane of us. You do inspire love and devotion. You have no right to send someone packing because it's too much. You hold them and cry and talk to them." Vesemir smiled. "But you're not much of a talker, are you? Yennefer came by in October. Brought Jaskier's lute."

"What!? I met her, I talked to her…"

"About Ciri, I think," Eskel guessed. "And she's too smug to let you off the hook easily."

"Where is he? What's happened to that beautiful son of a…"

"Viscount," Vesemir inserted. "She doesn't know. No one has heard of your bard since that hunt. I looked into it. Contacted some acquaintances."

"Aren't they all dead?" Lambert asked. 

"Some of them. Why?"

***

Geralt spent a torturous winter at Kaer Morhen and left at the first opportunity, right after Yennefer picked Ciri up for her magical education. She disappeared through a portal before Geralt could snarl at her as well. 

Jaskier couldn't be found. Geralt looked for him everywhere, including Lettenhove, where he drove Jaskier's parents mad with worry and received a thorough chiding from both the viscount and viscountess. 

"So… go now! Look for him! He's not dead!" The viscountess said. She was, Geralt realised, more angry than worried. 

"Yes! Go!" The viscount added. 

"How do you know he's not dead?" Geralt asked. 

"We've had that spell placed on him when he left for Oxenfurt. If he's dead, we'd now." The viscountess wiped her eyes. "There's no way we could keep him away from danger. And then he met you and assured us that you will always keep him safe! We thought he'd come back with you one day, that you'd get married here… maybe he'd agree to settle down… Find him!" She stomped her foot. "Find him. Bring him to us at least for a visit."

Geralt left immediately refusing any help with his supplies.

So that was Jaskier's family, he thought, as Roach, being in a foul mood, trotted down the road. Affectionate, accepting parents, who knew they could lose him - and accepted that as well, and didn't love their mischievous boy any less for it. 

Geralt went to Yennefer. 

"I don't know!" She reiterated. Then shut the door that hadn't been there a moment before so that Ciri couldn't hear them. "He visited her every fucking year! Sang to her. Risked his head with that mad lioness! She wants to see him. She worries about him. You're going to find him and bring him… somewhere. For Ciri. For yourself, Geralt. He loves you. Gods know I don't and never have! You don't love me either, Geralt. It was always him, wasn't it?" She looked sad suddenly. "It's rare for us, to find someone who loves us. It's rare for more regular people too. It's just rare, Geralt."

"He's a golden dragon," Geralt whispered. 

"More like a golden retriever, if you ask me, annoying and adorable. But yes… He's rare and precious if only because he writes catchy songs about you and bitter ballads about me. He loves you. Please, find him."

Geralt sighed and went to look for Jaskier. 

He looked and he looked and he looked. No one had heard of the bard since the dragon hunt, just like Vesemir had said.

Geralt decided to go to that mountain, retrace their steps.

The place was just as abandoned as it had been, but more… haunted and lonely. It was cold and lonely there, a perpetual twilight, terrible, melancholic silence - no birds, no hares, no one and nothing. It was like an underworld, like an entire forsaken realm.

When he reached the cave, it was just as lonely and empty as the rest of the place. Geralt dropped to his knees and allowed himself to cry. He was too exhausted to be properly furious but he could no longer contain his anguish. 

A wisp of wind touched the back of his neck - came and went - and returned. It tried to… Geralt felt as if the wind was trying to annoy him, to tickle him, to… 

Geralt stood up and ran out of the cave. The wind played with the dust, twirling and… dancing. 

"You… you know where…" Geralt raised his head to the sky in a childish belief that his tears would just roll back into his eyes. The wind swept the salt drops away, mocking and teasing. 

"I just want to… know he's alright. To help him if he's not. Please…"

The wind swept between Geralt's fingers and played with his hair. Then Geralt was harshly moved. 

He couldn't resist the wind and rushed to tag along. 

The wind took Geralt to an old olive tree. It was old, but it was the only tree, the only thing on the mountain whose leaves were green, whose branches were heavy with its fruit. It was practically trembling with life, with water, although Geralt could say that it hadn't rained here for quite a while. 

Geralt touched the bark, traced the lines and wrinkles, until his fingers touched a patch of soft blue moss. 

The witcher gasped. It was just the colour of Jaskier's eyes and soft like his skin and his hair and his smile… 

Geralt caressed the patch. "Jaskier… my… Jaskier? Is that you? What happened?" Geralt shut his eyes. "I used to get so angry when you got in trouble. Not with you, my gentle friend, with this fucking disgrace of the world which refused to give you everything you wanted… I refused to give you everything you wanted. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I… are you… can you come back to me? Are you cursed? Enchanted? Did you… did you choose it?" Geralt pressed his forehead against the blue moss. "It even smells like you. What a lovely, funny moss that smells of lavender and parchment and ink… I just want to know that you're alright… content. Fuck, I'm talking to a bloody tree… I'm sorry, Jask… you would have told me that talking to a tree isn't much worse than talking to a horse… Roach misses you. I don't carry apples and carrots for her… I knew you stole a cabbage for her once… did you steal it? Or did you just charm the old woman who owned the garden? Jaskier… I found Ciri, you know? She's with Yennefer. She helps Ciri with her magic. Ciri misses you too. Jaskier, please, just… tell me… Yennefer brought your lute to Kaer Morhen. Pissed off Vesemir. A bit. You'd have loved to see it. Eskel does a good impersonation of me, you know? You'd have loved it. You'd have laughed so hard… Come back to me, Jaskier, please, just for…" Geralt brushed his lips against the moss - and Jaskier fell onto him, a heap of limbs and curses and confusion. 

"Jaskier…"

"Geralt! What the fuck are you doing here? I took myself off your hands! I…" 

Geralt grabbed the bard by the shoulders and lifted him off the ground. "You!? You… I was worried sick! What did you… Fuck! Jaskier!" Geralt kissed him. 

***

They walked down the mountain holding hands. The mountain came back to life around them, the birds seemed particularly cheery. 

Geralt couldn't see any of it. He only had eyes for his bard who was telling him… something. It was even important. Geralt was ready to be proclaimed very annoying and uncaring and paying no attention to what Jaskier had been saying, but Geralt would welcome it. He would welcome everything from Jaskier, who rubbed soothing circles into the back of Geralt's hand and smiled at him and… 

Geralt kissed his bard again. 

"Oh… I don't have anything for Roach!"

"She'll be happy to see you, Jask."

"Well, if you say so… Geralt, take me to Ciri first, alright?"

"Whatever you say, my…" Geralt paused. 

"Yours. Always have been." Jaskier lifted Geralt's hand to his lips. "Can I ride Roach now?"

"Oh, I'm not letting you out of my arms for the foreseeable future," Geralt promised. 


End file.
